


Daughter of Sól, or: The Taming of the Stallions

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 20:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: Lucy wears a contemporary gown. Flynn and Wyatt can't stop staring.





	Daughter of Sól, or: The Taming of the Stallions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madsthenerdygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/gifts).



Lucy grumbled in discontent as she pulled what seemed like an endless length of gold-coloured fabric over her head. She was  _ not  _ looking forward to tonight. Denise had managed to locate a Rittenhouse defector who had offered information, but to meet up with him, they had to go to a Rotary gala. Connor was the only one in the bunker with a Rotary membership, so he was going, and Lucy was going along as his plus one. 

She wasn't a gala person. Lucy preferred jeans over dresses, especially now that she was running around in period fashion all the time. Getting into a gown and falling face-first into a highlighter palette was  _ not  _ her idea of a fun night. She hadn't had any influence on her outfit either, though she had begged Denise for something at least slightly modest, that wasn't strapless. Looking at herself in the mirror, the agent had listened to her. Somewhat. It was an off-the-shoulder floor-length gown, with alternating translucent and opaque panels, and decorated with gold-thread embroidery. It had an ancient Grecian vibe to it, really. 

With quite a bit of ruckus, Jiya had waltzed into the bathroom to do her hair, explaining: “I'm the eldest of six daughters. It's second nature to me.”

What she hadn’t expected, however, was the looks on Wyatt and Flynn’s faces when she walked into their bedroom. The only way she could think to describe it would be two parched soldiers seeing an oasis for the first time in three days.

“That’s,” Wyatt began, struggling to find words, “that’s a dress.” Lucy chuckled.

“It is indeed,” she replied. “Do I look okay?” Biting her lip, she looked up at both men. 

“More than okay,” Flynn managed to choke out. Both men were frozen in place, but she could see the strain in their bodies. Smiling, she gave them a nod. Permission. 

They were at her side within seconds, Wyatt peppering kisses along the exposed skin of her right shoulder while Flynn nearly attacked her neck, teeth scraping her throat. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” Lucy whispered gently. “I still need to look presentable.” Flynn stared intently at her throat, murmuring: “That’s a shame.”

“Or a promise, for when I get back,” Lucy countered. The smug look she tried to give him lost its punch when Wyatt suddenly palmed her chest through the fabric of her dress. Her knees buckled and she grasped on to both of their arms to keep herself upright.

“How long before you have to leave?” Wyatt asked, gently massaging her breasts and manipulating them into stiff peaks. 

“Like...five minutes ago,” Lucy managed to tell him, her voice stuttering slightly now that one of Flynn’s hands had joined Wyatt’s when she wasn’t paying attention, his other arm helping to keep her upright. “So I doubt we even have...fuck...time for this.” 

“Get on your knees then,” Flynn's voice told Wyatt from behind her, his low rumble sending a shiver down her spine. “No time to waste.” He pulled her backwards until he was sitting on their bed with Lucy in his lap. She wanted to protest, telling them to wait until tonight but  _ oh God _ . Wyatt's hands were sliding up her thighs, moving the scrap of lace out of the way, and he buried his face in her centre and  _ Jesus _ , they were going to kill her like this. Flynn was holding her, keeping her in place with firm pressure. She was stuck between both of her boys. She loved it.

“Fuck!” Lucy couldn't swallow the expletive as Wyatt's tongue entered her without warning. Flynn chuckled, and so did Wyatt, the vibrations making her shudder. 

“Shh, beautiful,” Flynn murmured. Lucy turned her head backwards so she could kiss him. There was no way she was going to be able to stay quiet otherwise. Wyatt was exploring her swollen flesh when he suddenly hit  _ that _ spot. Even Flynn's mouth on hers couldn't smother the high-pitched mewl that escaped her throat. 

“Lucy? Are you coming?” Mason's voice suddenly sounded at the other side of the door.

“Nearly there!” Lucy called out truthfully. “So close,” she added on a whisper.

Then Wyatt took her clit in his mouth and sucked while Flynn softly bit her pulse point and everything went black before fireworks went off behind her closed eyelids. Lucy's entire form went rigid as her climax crashed through her, quick but powerful. Once she had gone limp, Wyatt got up, wiping his mouth and chin on his sleeve.

“Better get going,” he commented. Lucy nodded, pulling them both in for a kiss before letting them help her onto her feet. She felt heavenly relaxed. 

“I love you,” she told them. 

“Be safe.” - “Be careful.”

“I will; I promise.”

Minutes later, she was gone. 

Wyatt was staring at Flynn, and asked: “Now what?” The Croat grinned.

“I have some ideas to make time pass quickly…”

**Author's Note:**

> Lucy's gown is real, and can be found here: http://www.elle.com/runway/spring-2013-couture/g1493/zuhair-murad-spring-2013-couture/ (number 14 of 45).


End file.
